


Lack of Lube

by evila_elf



Category: House M.D.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-13 22:13:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evila_elf/pseuds/evila_elf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh, Dear!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lack of Lube

Originally posted to Livejournal April 9th, 2006

 

The hotel room was small and cozy. It had exactly everything they needed: A bed, a bathroom, and a mini fridge to store a few cans of beer. House, naked from head to toe, lay sprawled over an equally naked James Wilson. “I’ve got to tell you something,” House whispered between kisses against the corner of Wilson’s mouth. He lowered his head and kissed an ear before speaking.

“What?” Wilson sat up, rolling Greg off of him. “How the Hell did you forget the lube?”

“I had something else on my mind and in my pants at the time that made thinking rather difficult.” He glanced down at Wilson’s hand.

“Fine blame me!”

“Just did. Come on--”

“Love to,” Wilson muttered.

“—There’s got to be something around here.” House had ignored Wilson’s comment and heaved himself out of the bed.

“Don’t walk in front of the windows unless you put some pants on! Doubt the pedestrians outside want a free look at your ass.”

House waved a dismissive hand in Wilson’s general direction and wandered into the bathroom. “You would think that they would have complimentary condoms or something around here.”

Wilson could hear the drawers opening and closing. “Not at 50 bucks a night.” He got out of the bed and peeked out the window cautiously before dashing in front of it, then joined House in the bathroom where he was examining a sample shampoo bottle. Wilson caught it as it was tossed in his direction, House waiting impatiently for a verdict. He uncapped it and took a sniff, wrinkling his nose. “House. I wouldn’t use this on my hair, let alone anywhere near my ass. It reeks!”

House sniffed it and shrugged. “Too small a bottle, anyways.” He checked the medicine cabinet and grabbed a tube of something.

“Toothpaste?”

“Nope.”

Wilson grabbed the container. “Hemorrhoid cream??” No sooner were the words out of his mouth than he dropped the tube onto the counter and started scrubbing his hands. “Not even any soap,” he muttered. He wandered back to the bed, too disgusted to care about the windows and the older lady walking by outside. “What about the fridge?” He sat down with a sigh

House set his cane across Wilson’s lap and opened the foot by foot door. A little too proudly, he displayed a bottle of Tobasco sauce.

“No fucking way are you sticking anything covered with that in me!”

“I thought you like it when it burns, Jimmy?”

Wilson groaned and flopped back down on to the bed. The mood had been officially killed.


End file.
